


Fool's Day

by oOoElvenGloryoOo



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, April Fools' Day, F/M, Humor, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oOoElvenGloryoOo/pseuds/oOoElvenGloryoOo
Summary: Solas confesses to the Inquisitor, and it all goes wonky.





	Fool's Day

"What is she doing?" Cassandra asked Sera, both standing at the end of the ramp leading into Skyhold's main building. Sera sighed. "She's been running around all day, like a chicken with her head up an elf's ass. Reading little notes and smiling to herself all giddy-like."  
"Sera, I have no idea what you just said to me." Cassandra liked the girl well enough, when she could understand what she was saying, that is.

Dorian walked up just then, overhearing the conversation. "Seems today is a, what did Solas call it, 'some sort of human festival, but not linked to anything logical like the solstice or the harvest season'. I've always known it as Fool's Day."

"Oh I've heard of that, yes, though I never celebrated. Thank you, Dorian." Cassandra, uninterested, went back to hacking away at the straw dummy she never seemed to finally kill. "What's it about then? The holiday?" Sera waited for Dorian to explain.

"Well, it's a day for pranks, normally. Or telling outrageous lies and just generally being an ass. You'd probably love it. Never caught on in Tevinter, too close to what life was like normally. The thing is, I think Solas is confused, and trying to turn it into a romantic affair sort of thing. Left little notes all over Skyhold for the Inquisitor. A girl sees that, and she's thinking proposal, not a Fool's Day trick. I tried to talk to him about it, and it was, let's just say, unproductive."

"Always is with him, innit?" Sera muttered before wandering off to mind her own business, which may or may not include using this new holiday knowledge to rid people of their breeches or fill their wardrobes with angry bees or put rotten fish under mattresses.

Several hours prior, Krem was quickly waving in a wagon out of sight from the rest of the group. Iron Bull had managed to secure some of the rarest ales, meads, ciders, and liquors in all of Thedas, not to mention prime cuts of beef and mutton, and all manner of items for a proper feast. Krem was glad he'd talked Bull into a "prank" of the pleasant kind, figuring the morale of Skyhold could use an early spring boost. Most of Bull's prank ideas involved genitals or punching.

"Did you get the notes?" Bull asked, looking pleased with the laden delivery cart. "Sure did boss. Had Solas write them up, his handwriting's much better than mine." Krem handed them over. "He didn't catch on, did he?" Bull shuffled through the notes.

"Not at all, boss. Told him they were battle plans and my handwriting's shit. Took him about five minutes, and he was back to the books. He looked real preoccupied. All 'happy to serve you while I still can, Krem'. He's weird if you ask me." Bull nodded in approval. "Good work. I can't wait to see the looks on their faces!" He left to set up the notes in for the scavenger hunt.

Solas paced back and forth in front of his mural. He wished people would just leave him alone, allow him to enjoy his last few hours of freedom. Today was the day. He was going to tell her. Everything. First Dorian and his nonsense about holidays. "Fool's day isn't like Lover's day, Solas, you know that right? " What kind of question is that? Then Krem and his battle notes. It seemed more like they were sending their troops on a wild goose chase rather than leading an army, though he suspects something was lost in translation.

He stopped bitching to himself long enough to pour a glass of brandy to steady his nerves. He rehearsed it in his head, over and over. Just say it. "I am Fen'harel. The dread wolf. I am going to end the world. Lock me up. Save yourself. I love you." It sounded trite and stupid. He expected execution. He wasn't sure if he could die. Another shot of brandy down the hatch.

The Inquisitor plucked the last note from the royal elfroot plant. "Gather everyone when the sun dies, where the fates of men are judged" was written in Solas' elegant script, on fine paper. Solas had been making puppy dog faces at her every time she'd looked over at him recently, finding subtle ways to spend as much time with her as possible, and they spent the night together in dreams more often than ever. Dorian had stopped her and reminded her not to get her hopes up, and rambled on about some human holiday she couldn't be bothered with.

Dorian didn't realize that this little hunt was an obscure Dalish courting ritual. One lover sends another lover on a hunt with riddles, and if they find the destination at the end, they marry. She didn't expect Solas to have known about this, or that it was even practiced outside her small clan. Her heart swelled at the romance of it all. He wanted to gather everyone, to not hide their relationship away in dreams, as they had up until now.

"Where the fates of men are judged" she pondered. "Aha! The throne!". What a beautiful place for a proposal, at the heart of the Inquisition that they would guide together, elven mages making the world a better place, one hole in the sky at a time.

Solas' skin was flushed from the brandy, and his steps unsteady as he bound his own hands together with magic cords. He muttered evlish words that amounted to a binding spell, nullified only by the Inquisitor with the approval of three others. Stoic as ever, he blinked back the tears that gathered at the edges of his eyes, his bound hands clutching the wolf jaw pendant he normally wore. He hoped she'd keep it in memory of the parts of him she'd loved. He took a deep breath. The sun was sinking quickly. Time to get it over with. She came this way every day at the same time, to freshen up in her quarters before dinner.

The main hall was empty for once, and he knelt in front of the throne, ready to lay bare the truth and get it over with. A tear escaped his clenched lids every so often, sliding down cheeks bathed in the glow of the stained glass. He heard soft footsteps echo through the halls. She was here.

"Yes!" the Inquisitor thought to herself. This was indeed what she suspected. She'd sent a message to everyone to gather and she could hear them slowly approaching, chatting merrily to one another.

"Solas!" she cried out, walking faster towards her kneeling lover, expecting to find a ring in his hands, not tears streaming down his face.

He looked up at her, eyes sparkling with sadness. "Vhenan" he said softly. There was no ring. Confused, she shook her head. "What's going on? I thought, well, I thought you were going to...." she stopped when she realized the others were arriving.

"He's on his knees! Well, even I have to admit I'm wrong sometimes! Good for them!" Dorian cheered. "Oh gross, they're going to get married and infest this place with tiny versions of 'im." Sera remarked. "A lady of her standing deserves a ring, not a moldy wolf bone" Vivienne added.

Iron Bull arrived a bit late, noticing his bound hands. "Kinky! Normally I keep the bondage stuff behind closed doors, but I'm down to watch."

"Enough!" Solas shouted, as if all the pain he'd felt over centuries could be carried on his voice. "I have had enough of this charade!" his voice deepened, hoarse and rough. "I am the dread wolf, Fen'harel. I am going to end the world. You must stop me, vhenan. I love you, and if you love me, stop me. Kill me. Lock me up. I don't care, just save yourself. Save our people. Please." He trembled with nerves and fear.

The room burst into laughter. "Some dread wolf he is, he don't even got hair on his head. What's Fen'harel the god of, being boring?" Sera was laughing so hard she could barely breathe. Dorian shook his head while chuckling "I never thought I'd see someone fail this badly in person. Good show, Solas. I think." Varric piped in with loud wolf howls peppered with guttural snorts. The laughter began to die down as they realized the Inquisitor looked rather crushed.

She bit back the tears. Those could wait for private. This must be what Dorian meant, Fool's Day nonsense, though honestly she didn't get the joke. He was nothing like the dread wolf she heard tales of as a child. "I thought you were going to, uh, never mind. What about the notes you left? You had to know what that meant, didn't you?"

Before Solas could answer, Bull sheepishly revealed his prank of sorts. "Well, I wanted to do something real good, but Krem said I should throw a party instead. The notes are my idea. You were all supposed to meet here and I'd reveal the feast I'd had prepared and we'd drink til the wee hours. Use the holiday for a moral boost. Didn't know he was gonna, you know, this" Iron Bull growled and holding his hands up like paws.

"I think Solas is the worst at Fool's Day, agreed?" The Inquisitor said. "And Bull is the winner, seeing as he provided something other than disappointment. "Really, Solas, it's a human holiday, it's beneath you isn't it?"

He was in shock. He's spent hours preparing for death, and they were laughing. Mocking. They didn't believe him. They think he was playing a prank that comically intersected with Bull's. "Should we let him go?" he heard the Inquisitor ask, starting to unwind his binding. "Sure, yes, please, let's eat" was the agreement of all gathered there. More than three. The cords fell away. He tried to swallow down the fear, fold himself away behind his mask. "I though it would be... I'm not sure what I was thinking. I'm sorry I confused you. I guess I have a poor sense of humor. I confess I participated without realizing the consequences." The brandy on his breath was obvious to anyone within smelling distance.

"I'm not sure if we need to get him more drunk or sober him up" Bull quipped. "Come on, boy, up! You can do it! Good puppy!" Varric teased. "Bees in the wardrobe seems nice compared to your shite, Sore-ass" Sera said, following everyone out of the hall.

The feast was a jolly affair for all but Solas and the Inquisitor. She at least tried to make the best of it, laughing it off as "life is weird", but she wished they were in her room, celebrating their union, not drinking in a crowd intent on bringing up the most embarrassing moment of her life over and over.

Solas kept to the outskirts of the group, and any verbal participation led to more howling and gestures of mocking worship and fear. They wouldn't stop calling him "Our lord Fen'harel". Sera wanted to know if a statue outside Skyhold would keep him away like it did for the Dalish, and was ready to fund that project from her own purse. Bull made sure he knew that he's glad the mistake happened cause god forbid the feared dread wolf take a wife and get tamed. He rambled faux apologies for almost getting him stuck with 'a ball and chain' and offerings to bed him since 'he can't break a god, right?"

As soon was was socially acceptable, Solas escaped the festivities, but not without a final "would you like a doggy bag?" from Varric, which was met with a fresh round of howls and whistles.

Everyone was deep in their cups and Cole sat among them. "He always tells the truth, at least some of it, but always true. No one listens." Since no one listened to him either, it had no impact. 


End file.
